Friday, June 4, 2010

Kick-Butt Update

Back in November I wrote on my blog:

"Still figuring out how I feel about all these events and what exactly I plan to do next, but have stated publicly that 2009/2010 is going to be The Year In Which I Start Kicking Serious Butt In Life."


The sun is shining and life seems good, so it feels like a good day to update all two of my blog readers (Hi Mom, Hi Dad) on my butt-kicking quest.

This summer has been awesome so far. Okay, I know it's not actually summer yet, but indulge me. When orchestra gigs peter out and June wedding gigs begin, when the weather gets warm and my green bean plants are already past my ankles, when my end-of-the-year studio recital is fast approaching and summer lesson schedules are being set up - well, it seems like summer to me.

I've been oh so productive lately. The weather, unlike last summer when it rained all the time, is glorious, and I have boundless energy. I've hauled dead trees and masses of branches from the yard back into the woods beyond the yard, and I've pulled thousands of weeds, and I've planted perennials all over the place, and gotten my vegetable garden going. I've gone for a run most days lately, including one five-miler earlier this week. I've worked out at the gym frequently. I'm thinking about training for my first half-marathon. I've learned to drive Nathan's stick shift Honda (under duress, because some moron hit my car while it was parked in front of my house), and I haven't killed anyone yet. I've been making yogurt in the yogurt maker my parents gave me when they visited, because I'm just that advanced in my journey to enlightenment - I make organic homemade yogurt, mmmhmm. Speaking of foodie enlightenment, I get to pick up my first CSA share of the summer next week. Incidentally, I also turn twenty-seven next week.

Twenty-seven is definitely more of a "late twenties" age than a "mid-twenties" age, and I realize that I'm getting up there towards 30. And in case I wasn't aware of my advancing age, the issue of Marie Claire that arrived in my mailbox yesterday informed me that women lose 90% of their eggs by age 30. Thanks, Marie. I'm getting old. The knowledge of this fact may be why last fall, as part of my decision to grab life by the horns and start kicking butt, I decided it was about time for me to go back to school - or at least that it was probably now or never. Sure, people can go back to school for teaching certificates or psychology degrees when they're older, but people don't study violin performance in their 50's. They just don't. So back in February I auditioned at two conservatories in the Boston area. Both auditions ranged from mediocre to abysmal, but both schools miraculously accepted me and offered my varying amounts of scholarship money. So I'm probably (meaning I've already paid the deposit) starting a master's degree this fall.

Hot dang, I think I am going to kick butt! Or at least to become a decent violinist, a good friend to all the fascinating new people I'll meet, and a more knowledgeable person, not to mention funny, clever, and passably chic.

And maybe this summer will be when I finally make the dreams long lingering on my blog sidebar come true. Spontaneously or not, life seems rather good, and when everything looks so bright, I can't help wondering if skinniness, wealth, and the perfect pair of jeans are in my future.

Dear twenty-seven,
Bring it on.
Yours very sincerely,

3 comments:

  1. Although I seriously suspect that you have more than two readers, I felt I should definitely respond to this post :-) Nothing like a good quest to get you accomplishing things! I'm impressed with all your doings - gardening, running, cooking... and especially that you haven't killed anyone yet! And in the words of someone I love ... Hot Dang! I'm so glad we have an almost 27-year-old daughter!

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  2. Best jeans ever: True Religion. I even just found a pair for $120, instead of their retail $240 (!!!!!!!). It's in your future...I can feel it.

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  3. Hey Sarah!
    Post some photos of all your gardening successes and Nathan's carpentry prowess for me.
    Love you,
    Dad

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